Misery that you are,
I cannot occupy your flesh
The crumbs that you have laid
Are an obstruction of passage
I will not live in the archetype
That you have blessed,
In the multi-socketed sea
Of sodium and sulfuric ash
Within a hell not wrought
By my own misconceptions.
If I must suffer better
That I relish the source.
*
A short one high physical pain day
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Sorry to hear about your physical pain. I pray for you to get better. Happy Thanksgiving!
Thank you, you too!
may you be well, on the holiday
and everyday, dear one 🙂
Awwww thank you =)
if only pain were not the necessary correlate of such craft; the corrections, the balm, one hopes, lie close to the source.
Thank you for your kindness. Pain is a necessary part of life and life is the source of art
Pain is the sign that we need cure and to be better soon.
I loved the wordplay and that ending is signature. Brilliant!
Thank you so much!
some miseries are worth suffering…in order to know the source….smiles…
So true
Before I read your comment I was already feeling the physicality of your poem. Loved it, though. It is sad that it’s rooted in pain.
Greetings from London.
Thank you very much I just noticed some of my comments had went to spam it seems completely arbitrary as to why though.